Merida's Wee Lass
by catchingthegirlonfire
Summary: Merida's daughter, Maeve, turns 16 and gets a shooting lesson from her mother. But what happens when the witch, resentful of Merida for destroying her reputation, kidnaps Maeve and holds her ransom for rule of the kingdom? Will Merida rescue her daughter? And at what cost? Or will the witch prevail and take over DunBroch Castle?
1. Chapter 1

**Cha d'dhùin doras nach d'fhosgail doras.**

(No door ever closed, but another opened)

I gaze up at my mother's tapestry, a bear, my mother Elinor, holds the hand of my teenage self. I smile and my crown shifts upon my head, the very same crown my mother wore all my life. It's been five years since my mother passed. My father, Fergis, followed her, soon after, for he had succumb to grief. My father died of a broken heart. Upon their burial I requested their headstone be engraved with a bear encircled in a heart. I did this to commemorate my mother and the journey we shared together. And after all, my father was the bear king for a reason. Though it was my mother that killed the elusive and dangerous Mor'du.

At the age of twenty-three, I was married to a man born of my own clan, on my own terms. I have to admit- I even surprised myself when I said yes to him. I married Owen McFadden, who eventually became Owen Dunbroch. I convinced him to take my name, you see, much to his dismay. He's been a good husband to me. And a good father in due time, too.

This brings me to my daughter, Maeve, whom turns sixteen this very morn. Though I initially protested to having a child, Owen convinced me. It was the greatest joy of my life thus far. After having Maeve, I was not able to conceive any more children, though with three brothers, a husband, and a newborn baby, I've got plenty to care for. Harris and Hubert have married wives of the Clan MacGuffin, and Hamish of Clan Macintosh. They live in our castle quietly, under my rule, though they still cause trouble on occasion and steal sweets from the kitchens. My brothers never cease to make me smile, but they also never cease to defend our lands.

Upon my parents' death, I was crowned queen, my daughter made princess, and my husband granted partial kingship. A man not born of the Dunbroch bloodline cannot be considered a true king. But a good true king he's always been, defending our lands from invaders, and ruling our kingdom with gratitude and understanding.

I walk down the stone hall, past all of my mother's tapestries, down to the great hall. Maeve sits upon her throne, waiting for me. "Ready, Maeve?" I ask, as she looks up at me.

"Aye," she says, "I'm ready," as she brandishes her bow.

"I'm finally teachin' ye how to shoot properly," I say.

"I dinnae know why it took ye so long," she quips.

I look down at her in disapproval, "Ye know ye have to attend to yer studies, Maeve. Learn yer kingdom," I say, in a tone my mother would be proud of.

"I dinnae want to learn my lessons," she says, defiantly, he auburn curls dancing down her shoulders.

"Do ye remember what I told ye?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes and says, "Legends are lessons, I know."

"I didnae listen to my mother either," I say, "And ye saw how that turned out, didnae ye?"

She rolls her eyes again and says, "I've been practicin'"

"Have ye?" I say, "Wouldn't be with _my _bow, would it?"

She shifts a bit in her chair and averts her eyes. I lean in closer, "Yer in big trouble, my bonnie princess."

Her face turns scared, given my intense expression. I grin and say, "I'm gaunnae smoke ye in target practice."

She smiles and says, "Willnae!"

She swiftly stands up, causing me to stumble backwards a bit, as she grabs my bow out from under her throne.

"Give me that," I say, ripping the bow out of her hands.

She promptly deflates. "Come with me," I say, directing her up the stairs, to the room that was once mine.

"Go inside," I say, as she enters her room.

"What's that on the bed," I say, trying to look nonchalant.

"A bow!" she exclaims, "Ye got me a bow!"

"Worked on the carvings ma'self," I say, "A will-o'-the-wisp led me to the wood I carved it out of. It was meant to be."

"Oh, mum, I love it!" she says, running to hug me.

"Let's go then, yea?" I say, eventually leading her out out of the castles to the stables.

We mount our horses and ride off into the sunrise, towards the clearing of stone circle I will use to teach my daughter to shoot. Though it seems she's already always a step ahead of me. She reminds me more and more of me everyday, and I sound more and more like my mother with every waking minute. Now I understand the responsibilities of being a queen, and adult, but most of all a mother. I worry for my daughter so much, for her safety, future, _everything_. I understand now why it's so important for Maeve to know her kingdom. But I wouldn't dream of stifling her freedom, or deciding her fate. I've done away with the old marriage rules. I want my daughter to be free henceforth, to forge her own path. My mother taught me that in the end. I wouldn't trade the lessons my mother has taught me for the world.

We finally reach our final stopping point, in the circle of ancient standing stones. I've since set up a target for her to practice on. I glance over to the broken stone, which Mor'du's bones lay crushed under. Though I've been back here many times, it never ceases to make me shudder at the sight.

"Okay," I say, "Stand o'er here."

She follows me and flourishes an arrow out of her quiver swiftly. "Don't be hasty," I say, as she sticks her tongue out at me. I never did admonish her for being un-ladylike. She has a natural tendency to be unruly, and unruly she shall stay. Unless, of course, it interrupts her studies. That's a rule I'm unwilling for her to break.

It's like looking to a mirror, a mirror that shows the past, gazing into Maeve's focused expression, as I coach her into releasing her first arrow. It falls just three inches underneath the red bullseye. "Ye've been practicin'" I exclaim.

She throws me a look, obviously very pleased with herself. I raise my own bow up, brandish an arrow, release it, all without breaking my gaze into her eyes. The arrow drills through the dead center of the bullseye. "But I'v been practicin' longer."

"That's cause yer _old!" _she yells, laughing.

"I'm beggin yer pardon, missy!" I say, laughing, face riddy and embarrassed.

"Just shoot another arrow," I say.

She take her aim, but doesn't flush the arrow with her cheek. The arrow sails over the target. "I'll get it," I say, heading into the woods.

I look around for a moment, "How far did ye shoot that thing?" I say, exasperated, not being able to find it.

A few moments later I hear a scream. "Maeve?" I call, running out of the woods back to the circle.

"Mum!" she screams, as I see her, in the distance, being carried off by a bear, deep into the woods. I pick up my bow and run after the creature, aiming, not daring to shoot for fear that I'd hit my wee lass. "Maeve!" I scream, feeling my old legs becoming weak.

I fall to my knees, watching her stream away into the nothingness. I begin to sob, my precious daughter, has been taken. I sit there a long while, not really knowing what I should do. Suddenly I hear a familiar sound.

Across the ring of stones there's a blue wisp. I stand up and run through it. The wisp disappears. Another appears, and then another, and so forth, leading me down along a path through the forest. Suddenly the wisps disappear and I look upon a familiar sight. I gaze down at the rebuilt witch's cottage. I thought I put her out of business the last time I tried to change by fate. I have no intention of crawling back to her now. She almost got my mother killed last time. Still, why would the wisps lead me here?


	2. Chapter 2

**Is fhearr fheuchainn na bhith san duil.**

(It's better to try than to hope)

As I take my first step down to the cottage a wisp collides with my face, yet doesn't disperse. I look upon the fourth brother, the soul of the man who turned out to be trapped inside of Mor'du, another victim of the witch. "You mustn't go there," he says, in a calm, clear, low voice.

"Ye can talk?" I exclaim, but he quiets me.

"Aye," he says, "I can speak."

"Do ye know what happened to my daughter?" I ask.

"Aye," he says, "I came here to relay a message."

"Alright," I say, "Go on."

"The witch has taken your daughter and is holdin' her for ransom," he says.

"Why would she do that?" I ask.

"You ran her out of business," he says, "As did my story. And she's resentful."

"What does she want from me," I say, "I cannae get her reputation back now."

"She doesnae want that," he says, "He's holdin' her ransom for your kingdom."

"The kingdom?" I explain, "Why, after all this time, does she want my kingdom now?"

"Now she has something to take from you," he says, "And she intends to take the throne along with it."

"What do I do?" I ask, "The wisps lead me to you."

"The wisps lead you to me because I told them to," he says.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I ask.

"Go back to your people," he says, "Tell them of this tragedy. Then you forge your own fate."

"Make my own fate?" I say, "You saw how well that ended up last time."

"You're wiser now," he says, "Beside," he pauses, "It wouldn't be fate if it wasn't already decided."

"Go now," he says, "Tell your husband," he pauses, "The witch will come to you when she's ready."

With his words in mind, I go back to the stone circle, gather her bow, and lead her horse back home. I hold my head down low as I cross the bride to the castle, a lesser queen than Elinor, and a poor excuse for a mother.

Telling my husband was the hardest thing I've had to do in my whole life, including saving my mother so very long ago. I tell my brothers next and naturally, if those three know, the whole kingdom knows. We are to gather in the throne room to discuss our next moves.

The table is nearly full upon my entrance, but the room falls silent when I approach. I look around the room to see my husband, at the head of the table, my brothers, the clan's senior most military leader, among other men who are strategists, architects, and so on. I put on my best impersonation of my mother and say, "I assume ye- ehm, _you _have all heard of my daughter's kidnapping."

A chorus of "aye"'s sing around the table. "The witch is threatening to murder the princess if we dinnae- _do not _surrender the throne to her."

"I will not surrender this clan to an old sorcerer," I say, "My father long defended these lands, I do not want to see them burn on this night."

"Nor will they, my queen," a well spoken man says.

"All I want is my daughter back," I say, "But I refuse to hand the kingdom off to her."

Another man says, "We've sent some men out to find and rescue her."

"There's no winning against a witch," I say, "I should know."

"These men are our best fighters, my queen," another voice says, "Surely she is no match-"

I cut him off, "Listen to me very clearly," I say, "This witch has wronged me before. She's got everything against me she can muster. There's no way the men'll even finder before the day's through."

"Don't give up hope, Merida," Owen says, trying to comfort me.

"Hope?" I say, "It's but a fool's hope. But I promise ye this, if she even harms a hair on my wee lass's head, I will break her in two. It is better to try than to hope."

"Aye," my husband says, "She'll stand no chance against my bonnie queen if all else fails."

"Muster the men," I say, "We have to defend the keep of the clan Dunbroch. Do your duty to our kingdom!"

The men sing a rowdy round of "aye"'s once again. They soon leave my husband and I alone, to tend to their duties to defend our kingdom. "Don't be so hard on yerself, lass," Owen says, picking my head up, standing me tall.

"I shouldnae have brought her out there alone," I say, assuming my normal pattern of speech.

"Ye always go out there by yerself," he says.

"I know," I say, "But I left her alone, Owen. While I fetched an arrow."

"That's not yer fault either, dear," he says, "The witch would have come whether you left her or not."

"But I could have stopped 'er," I say, "I'm sure of it."

"Stop worryin' yerself," Owen says, "Maeve will be home safe in her bed tonight, just like usual."

"Today's her birthday," I say, as I begin to cry.

He embraces me, hugs me tight and says, "There, there, we'll sort this all out."

He peppers in some calming words as I sob, creating a river of tears that I wish would take me back to her.

I spend the rest of the day pacing, waiting for some sort of news, but it never comes. With each growing minute my blood boils with rage and worry. I have reason enough to hate that damned witch, for almost killing my mother. Now nothing can stop me from ending her.

My husband has left my side- not willingly, but to ensure the proper preparations of the castle. The men are ready, eager for a stab at glory. At nightfall she will surely come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fear gu aois, is bean gu bàs.**

(A son is a son until he comes of age; a daughter is a daughter all her life)

The afternoon is fading, and there's still no sign of Maeve or the witch. We burn daylight quickly, sunset will soon fade away, the creatures of the night emerging from their hiding spots, prowling around, searching for their prey.

"How ye holdin' up, lass?" Owen asks, as he stands behind me on the roof of our castle.

"I'm fine, Owen," I say fast, not really believing it.

"What's that? Down there?" he says, pointing into the distance, beyond the bridge, almost out of the range of my eyesight.

"It's her," I say, "C'mon, better be quick now."

I run down the stairs, down out of the castle, towards the bridge, bow in hand. Noone waits for me at the end of the bridge. I spin around, looking in every direction for the witch. Owen has disappeared. I string an arrow in my bow. "I know yer out there," I say, "Come out."

Nobody answers me for a long while, until I finally spot something glowing in front of me. "A wisp!" I exclaim, venturing closer to it.

They lead me down a trail which I've never been. "Maeve?" I whisper, hoping to catch my daughter's careful ear, though she's probably to scared or far away to listen.

I hear a branch crack behind me and I turn to face the bear. I'm in a different place now than the one I had been before. Before I stood in front of a great big tree in the forest, now I've appeared in a clearing, mysterious, with strange sinister flowers, and vines tracing tree-bark behind me. The bear roars in protest and starts for me. I shoot and arrow and hit it in the chest and it vanishes into thin air. I stumble backwards and the arrows in my quiver scatter across the ground.

"Maeve?" I call louder, to no answer yet again.

I pick myself up and brush off my dress, and put my arrows back into the quiver. Another wisp appears. I follow the wisps down another path to a river. I dip my hands in the water, but it turns green on contact and vanishes into thin air. Feeling disoriented, not knowing what is real and what is illusion, my head begins to spin. "Mum!" I hear call from the distance. This rights the momentary confusion of my mind.

I break into a run, eyes half closed, as the witch twists and turns everything I see around me. I could have run passed Maeve and I would never have noticed. "Maeve?" I call again.

"Mum!" she says, "Watch out!"

I open my eyes to a familiar place. I stand upon the edge of a great precipice, into which the Fire Falls flow, a place I'd visit often in my youth. I gaze down and see Maeve tied up, stranded on top of the Crone's Tooth, right on the edge, ready to fall. "Help me!" she screams. I run to the edge, where I am certain the footing is right to find my way down.

Several minutes later, I find the path down to the bottom of the falls, where I can climb the Crone's Tooth. "I'm coming, Maeve!"

"Mummy!" she screams, as a helpless child would. But she sill is _my_ helpless child.

In the first moments I try to climb, I realize my age. It was must easier to do such a thing twenty years ago. My bow and the quiver threatens to knock my balance, so I throw them upon the ground and try again. A warrior would never do such a thing, throwing down their only defense, but a mother would, if it meant she could save her child.

After minutes of agony and near death I reach Maeve at the top. I immediately untie her hands. "Are ye alright?" I ask, "Has she hurt ye."

"No, mum, she hasn't," she says, "But I was so scared."

"I know, my wee darling, I know," I say, hugging her.

"I'd hate to break up your little reunion, but I have negotiations to conduct here."

The witch snaps her fingers and Maeve and I appear on the ground, off the Crone's Tooth, in less than a second. "Remember me?" she says.

"I do," I say, "Yer the one who gave me the spell that almost killed my mother."

"I gave ye fair warning, dear."

"Ye left me a riddle!" I exclaim, "I guess fair warnin' means something different to ye than it does me."

"Ye ruined me," the witch says, "Across the land I am known now."

"I didnae mean to!" I say, "Yer the one that gave me a gammy spell, and created Mor'du!"

"You tried to change your fate, and so did he," the witch says, "And now it's time for me to change mine."

"I'll give ye anything ye want. Just let me and my daughter go home," I say, "Anything."

"I want yer crown!" the witch says, "Then people would give me the respect I deserve."

"What about yer woodworking business?" I say, "I'll give ye the money to start back up again. I promise."

"I want that crown," she says, "And I'll be prepared to take yer head with it."

"O'er my dead body," Maeve says, pointing an arrow at the witch and releasing it.

In the instant the arrow hits the witch I wake up. "Mum!" Maeve yells, smacking my face, "Wake up!"

"What happened, lass?" I ask.

"Ye went lookin' for my arrow. Ye walked into a tree."

I laugh and say, "I guess I don't have the best eyes in the family anymore, do I?"

"No," she says laughing, "I found my arrow."

"Good," I say, "Now help me up."

She helps me up and we walk back to the stone circle. "Ye want to head back home?" I ask.

"Mum!" she protests, "I've only shot two arrows!", she pauses, "And it's my _birthday!"_

I sigh and say, "Fine," I pause and add, "Only because it's yer birthday."

I add, "Just promise ye won't get kidnapped by bears and witches."

"Are ye okay, Mum?" she says, "Really?"

"Yea," I say, "Just shoot already, won't you?"

As I watch her aim the arrow, I replay the dream in my head. I'm being overprotective, like my mother had been. I need to let her go, let her forge her own fate. She's sixteen, practically a women now. No, she _is _a woman now. She's such a good girl, she'll do alright. I'm just afraid of losing her. She needn't worry about any arranged marriages in her future. Couldn't bear it. She releases the arrow and it skims the top of the target. "You're going to get that one," I say, as she runs down into the forest, still my daughter, but a woman at last.


End file.
